Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop
by badomens
Summary: The silence that had existed between them had been bad, but this awkwardness was even worse. Direct Follow up to 'Screaming Infidelities'. College AU. FlynnXYuri. One Shot.


Author's Notes: Blame Suspicious Popsicle for the title, and the horrible pun that it is.

I wanted to write a follow up to _Screaming Infidelities_, and this one takes place _directly_ afterward, so if you haven't read it, read _Screaming Infidelities_ first so that you know where things lie for this fic. Also, I promise after this, Adrien won't be appearing in any more fics.

* * *

Seven forty-five. He was early, but Yuri wouldn't mind. Hopefully.

He wasn't sure why he bothered knocking. Yuri had told him years ago that he could come and go as he pleased, but it seemed right. It seemed proper for their first - dare he call it - date. He fumbled, wondering if he should have brought flowers or something, anything, but as Yuri opened the door, it was too late for all that.

"Should have expected you early." He let Flynn in and bustled back into the kitchen. His hair was tied up in a high ponytail that made the black mass seem all that much longer, and he was wearing a pair of torn up jeans and a loosely buttoned up black shirt that hung past his hips with a plain apron over it. Flynn briefly thought that he really shouldn't have expected much more from his long time friend.

Flynn paused in the foyer to remove his shoes, but Yuri came back, tomato sauce stained wooden spoon in hand.

"Don't get comfortable. I need you to run to the store for me."

"What?"

From one pocket, Yuri produced a slip of paper and handed it over. The paper crinkled a bit as he opened it. There were a few ingredients listed there with specific brands, all of them being the cheapest, and prices scrawled off to the side. "Go get this stuff for me. Keep to the list." He pressed a crumpled ten dollar bill into Flynn's hand next.

The brief slide of Yuri's fingers against his palm made his chest tight. Even the slightest of touches sent his mind reeling back to the night before.

"Wait. Why didn't you go yourself?" He wasn't complaining about being sent on an errand. Yuri made a habit of doing the shopping himself, and often the grocery shopping for Flynn so that he didn't eat out all the time.

Yuri leaned against the wall, cocking an eyebrow and pointing down at the single red shoe haphazardly dropped beside the door. "I can't very well go anywhere with only one shoe."

Flynn had forgotten about that, and only now recognized the fading bruise over Yuri's eye. He wasn't sure what to say about it. It was likely that Yuri wasn't in the mood to talk about the events that had transpired the night before though he certainly remembered them. He left it alone, and took the list and the money and left for the store.

As instructed, he stuck close to Yuri's list. A pound of ground hamburger, a can of tomato sauce, a clove of garlic, and a dozen eggs. He thought about adding a bottle of wine or a cake to the order, but decided against it. Yuri made better sweets than any bakery and alcohol seemed ill advised after the party the night before. He seemed to have overcome the hangover as easily as he had always overcome everything else since childhood.

He returned less than half an hour later, and Yuri sent him out of the kitchen to go watch TV until dinner was ready. He felt useless and inept. Yuri never let him help in the kitchen and usually for good reason. Flynn had destroyed his mother's more than once.

It was almost nine o' clock when Yuri brought in a couple of bowls of spaghetti with his homemade sauce and meatballs. He passed a bowl over and flopped down on the sofa and turned on the TV. "What do you wanna watch? And don't tell me one of those crummy buddy flicks. I hate those." Yuri only had the most basic of channels because that's what came with his apartment, but after scrolling the few channels he did have, he found an older action movie that they remembered watching with Flynn's father when they were kids. "Lethal Weapon!"

For nearly two hours, they were able to go back to a time in their lives when things were less complicated, before college. Or at least, Yuri was. Flynn found himself watching Yuri, wanting to touch his hands or lean against him but not knowing if it was okay. After the previous night, the status of their relationship was in a strange limbo. Flynn wasn't sure if they were 'dating' or 'together' or anything else for that matter. It was the strange spot between more than friends and less than boyfriends and he didn't know what to do about it. He had no doubt now that things had changed, and hopefully it had been for the better, but he was still afraid. Yuri seemed to be handling this better than previously, but he knew that his long time friend didn't let things go easily. Even though he seemed in higher spirits, the things that had transpired between them in the past week would remain simmering just below his surface for a while to come. He wanted to take the first steps to show Yuri that he was serious about this relationship, but he had no idea what to do.

The movie ended, and Flynn helped Yuri wash the dishes. It was the only time he was allowed in the kitchen. They chatted a bit between the washing and the drying, about school and the coming semester and what tests they needed to study for. Things seemed to be back to normal.

"Well, I should get going." Flynn noticed the clock hanging on the wall, telling him that they had less than eight hours before they were supposed to get up for class. He dried off his hands and draped the hand towel across the edge of the sink.

"All right. It's been fun, I guess." Yuri slumped against the counter, looking over at him. He tapped his socked feet against the tile, and Flynn thought for half a second that Yuri was expecting him to do something. That second faded and he turned and led Flynn to the door.

"I'll pick you up in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

"Are you going to have shoes tomorrow?"

Yuri shrugged. "I'll figure something out."

He didn't like the sound of it, but the best he could do was bring an extra pair of his own for Yuri to borrow until he could get a replacement pair.

He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay, but what would he say? How could he express that? He hesitated in the slightest as Yuri ushered him out, claiming to be eager to crawl into his shoddy bed and get some sleep. He managed not to end up pushing Flynn out of the door, and with a soft goodnight, sent Flynn home.

The drive felt so far, even though it was only a few minutes. The drive was lonely and he hated the tingling of indecision clinging to his skin. He should have said something. He should have done something, anything. Even the simplest touch may have alleviated the tension between them. A kiss may have done even more. He didn't want to move too fast, but this strange feeling welling up inside of him urged him into any sort of action.

But he felt like Yuri was holding back also. He had been quieter than usual, and although that could have been written off as him still feeling the effects of his hangover, Flynn was sure that wasn't what it was.

He passed the college they attended together, and the row of frat houses where he had picked up Yuri only the night before. He slowed to a stop as he came upon the one he knew Yuri must have left, his eyes scanning the disheveled front yard. The two-level house was wrecked from years of being filled with rowdy college students and lights inside were on, illuminating the party that was still ongoing. Over the littered yard and porch and against the second story windows was clothing strung across a line, ladies unmentionables, socks, stockings, and in the middle, a single sneaker.

Flynn did a double take, unsure that he really saw it, but the red of the fabric sneaker wasn't merely an illusion created by the lights from inside. It was Yuri's, and this hunch was only confirmed by the appearance of the tanned young man that Yuri had left the party with the night before. He was standing on the porch with a young lady in a party dress, and the look on his face showed that he was pulling the same routine that he had used on Yuri. The girl was pinned up against the wall, although she seemed gleefully unconcerned by that as she leaned up, threading her fingers through his bleach blond hair.

He parked and was out of the car before he could stop himself. As he padded up the driveway and across the grass to the front of the porch, he kept telling himself that he was only going to ask for Yuri's shoe back. That was all he wanted.

When he made it to the porch, he ended up standing there awkwardly for a moment while the blond was busy making out with the young lady. When he broke the kiss, she glanced over, a little startled, and the blond's eyes followed.

"What do you want?"

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" It came out so tense and nervous that it didn't even sound like his own voice.

"Go ahead inside, babe. I'll be in in a sec."

"All right, Adrien. Don't take too long." She slipped past him and into the frat house, and then young man turned to look at him, leaning over the railing of the porch.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Flynn. I want the shoe on your line up there."

"Sorry, those aren't for sale."

"It belongs to a friend of mine and he'd like it back."

"Oh. Now I recognize you." A smirk spread across his face. "You were at that party last night. You're _that_ Flynn."

Flynn looked at him questioningly, but wasn't sure what to say.

"Frat house rule. The shoe's my trophy."

"Trophy?" He knew what was meant by that as soon as the word passed his lips and that didn't ease the boiling of his blood.

"Of my conquest. Your 'friend', the pretty one. I'm not usually into dudes, but from behind with hair that long, it all looks pretty much the same. He was real eager for it, too. He was pretty fun to play with."

Flynn found himself stomping up the first step of the porch, temper flaring hot as fire. He reached to grab Adrien, but he saw it coming and took a step back.

The gloating didn't stop there. "He's quite a biter, but he is really good with that dirty little mouth of his."

"How dare you-" He grabbed the blond by the front of his shirt slamming him against the door of the house. "Don't you _ever_ say anything like that about him ever again. Now give me that shoe."

"Jealous that I got a taste before you could? Well, I could hardly keep him off of me. He was hard as soon as I touched him. Hafta say I've never even seen a girl ride like he did. Noisy bastard, too. Neighbors called the cops cause he woke them up screaming from the pleasure. But right at the end, when I made him come, he said your name."

Flynn ached to hit him, fingers curled into his palm so tightly that his nails were digging into his skin. He pulled back, ready to follow through with his impulse, when the blond flinched.

"I'll call the cops!"

He shoved him aside and let himself into the frat house, weaving through the crowd amassed there in the living room filled with smoke and obnoxiously loud music. The blond was right behind him, tearing at him to keep him from progressing, but Flynn wouldn't be deterred. It was this, or beating Adrien until he was satisfied, and that could take some time. He found the stairs, pushing past a couple there making out up against the wall in order to access the upper floor. He spun off the first step, heading instinctively to the rooms at the front of the house.

It looked like a bomb had gone off in the room he entered and he politely ignored the half naked girl sitting on the bed, who rushed to cover herself up when she saw Flynn enter. He mumbled a 'pardon me' and tromped through the messy room and directly to the large, four pane glass window and pulled it open. The clothesline was hanging just within his reach. He fumbled for it momentarily, shrugging off Adrien as he tried to stop him, but used the momentum to snag the line and pull it into the window to retrieve the red sneaker that had its laces looped around the line. He shoved Adrien off a second time as he yanked the knot open and pulled the shoe free.

A sizable crowd of partiers had assembled on the second floor of the house to see what the commotion was about, but Flynn ignored them all as he descended. He didn't wait to see if Adrien was following him, or if he was indeed calling the police. He was marching across the lawn and in his car well before they showed up.

He left the row of frat houses and turned back toward Yuri's apartment. It was late, but this was urgent. The fire burning in his veins and across his skin told him that it was something he had to do tonight. It was important.

Flynn took the steps up to Yuri's third floor apartment two at a time, paying little mind to the amount of noise he was making or how heavy he was breathing, but only to the red fabric shoe clenched in his hand. He couldn't get there fast enough, but soon the door was before him, and he hesitated. Yuri was surely sleeping by now, resting up after his hangover. Flynn had left half an hour earlier and he had looked so tired then. Maybe this was a mistake. It could wait until tomorrow at least, right? Yuri wasn't going anywhere tonight.

He knocked softly, just in case. He didn't want to bother him.

After a moment, the dead bolt inside and the chain lock slid open, and then Yuri pulled open the door, peering out suspiciously.

"Flynn, what the hell? You should be at home."

"Sorry, I-" He lost the words to explain as his mouth became dry and merely extended the shoe out to him.

Yuri tentatively took the shoe, looking at it as if simply amazed by its presence. "Where did you... no. Never mind. What happened to yours though?"

"My what?"

His friend pointed down at Flynn's feet. One was still covered in his normal black leather shoes, but the other one was bare aside from a plain white sock.

"I-" He didn't care. He had other shoes. He had gotten the important thing back. That was what counted to him. After a second of staring at his own feet, a chuckle left his lips, and then an uneasy and strained laugh. "I don't know."

Yuri smirked a little, softer than usual, and Flynn thought for a second that it was almost a smile. He leaned in and gave Flynn a quick peck on the cheek, but Flynn found quickly that he wasn't satisfied with that. Neither of them were. Yuri closed his eyes, leaning in once more, and Flynn obliged. They stumbled backward into the foyer of Yuri's apartment, where Flynn pinned him against the wall.

It was a little different this time. The hunger was still there as Flynn deepened the kiss and Yuri moaned just a tiny bit into it. His hands fumbled briefly at the collar of Flynn's shirt, before finding their way up over his shoulders and across his back to pull Flynn closer and increase the contact between them. This was sudden, but he didn't stop, even as the thought of wanting to move slowly through this new stage in the relationship he had with his childhood friend lingering in the back of his mind. If it happened though, if this was what they both wanted, why should he stop it? Why deny this?

Yuri pulled back abruptly just like the night before, but it was different as he pushed Flynn away from him.

"Wha-"

"I'm not ready for this." He took a step away, breaking their every bit of contact and leaving Flynn dumbfounded. He had his back to Flynn, facing down his hallway. "Go home, Flynn."

"Wait-"

"Good night."

The moment was lost and he knew it. It was too good to be true. But at least this night had accomplished something. Yuri had two shoes once more, and in spite of the strange pit of hollowness settling in his stomach, he felt at least a tiny degree better about where the things between them stood. It was only the slightest of changes, barely measurable, but maybe that was enough for now.

"Good night, Yuri."

His apartment seemed distant and the drive lonely once more. He went out of his way to avoid the fraternity houses, and crawled with his one shoe and tiny victory into his own empty bed.


End file.
